Light Gold
by ea07
Summary: Zora had wanted to leave her past behind her, she wanted to move into the shadows and turn away from the horror and pain that had chased her all her life. She had wanted to... but she just wasn't quick enough. T for now. Appearances from pretty much everyone. Pairings might not be what you expect. Don't let the tags fool you! :)
1. Chapter 1: You Are My Sunshine

**Hope anyone reading this enjoys it. Not sure when I'll update, but this idea just struck me and I couldn't get it out of my mind.**

 **Chapter One – You Are My Sunshine**

"...You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

You'll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away..."

– Pine Ridge Boys

* * *

The distinct taste of blood ran over her tongue as she watched the terrifying scene from where she was hiding. The man, the archer, could burn for all she cared but that little boy hadn't done anything... she fought against the urge to stay out of it.

'No...' Zora thought to herself 'Maybe I could make it to the boy if...'

She didn't get a chance to finish her thought.

It was too late. Something had gone ahead and made its move... to help them.

In a breath she knew what had happened and before Zora could think about what she was doing she had already run over to that crumpled body lying on the broken streets of the rubble that had once been her city.

A rage spiked within her. This was all too familiar. It had taken so long to get back some of what they had lost. And here it was again, being taken away, while she was helplessly doing nothing.

'Well not nothing...' she coughed the dust from the ruined buildings out of her lungs as she heaved the body over on to its back.

It had been years, they had both changed... but she would have known that strange hair anywhere.

Blinking the dirt out of her amber eyes, she stared down at his wrecked form.

"You..." he wheezed, barely audible over the sounds of destruction around them.

"Hey! Back off!" an irritatingly American voice shouted behind her.

Ignoring it Zora lifted up the hem of the dying man's shirt.

"Solnyshka..." he croaked out, his dimming eyes clearly struggling to stay open. He weakly tried to lift his hand to graze the tips of her loose long blond hair.

"Don't call me that." She snapped in her native dialect, jerking back at his attempt to touch her. He dropped his arm with a thump. Rubbing her palms together Zora tried to keep her focus on the numerous bullet wounds that had pierced his chest. She could feel her pulse pounding against her own ribs as she assessed the damage.

"... you are my su..." he rasped out with a lazy, deluded smile, his blue eyes rolling drunkenly back into his head.

"Shut up!" she spat out, only causing his smile to widen at least until he began violently coughing up mouthfuls of blood.

"I said step back!" another shout came from the American.

Zora had been vaguely aware of the archer shuffling around with a weapon preparing to strike if she ignored him once more.

And yet ignore him she did.

"Thought you didn't surviv..." the wounded man brokenly spluttered past his blood stained teeth, his reddened lips moving in a language that had always been so similar to hers.

"Well, I did." Zora coldly interrupted the quickly fading runner, her hands moved to the bleeding spot closest to his heart. She spoke again. "It worked." Her hands glowed gold just as the silver haired man's seemingly unstoppable body finally gave out.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think of this prologue. I'd love to hear :)**


	2. Chapter 2: School Days

**Hope the first chapter went over well :) Honestly cannot stop thinking about the movie. Need to go see it again. Anyway I'm s** **orry about the editing. I promise I do my best to catch what I can. On we go!**

 **Chapter Two – School Days (When We Were Kids)**

"… Let's take a trip on memory's ship

Back to the bygone days

Sail to the old village school house

Anchor outside the school door

Look in and see, there's you and there's me

A couple of kids once more…"

– Byron G. Harlan

* * *

"MOTHER!" she yelled as loud as she could. She had already wailed at the top of her lungs, and no one had come and it hurt… a lot. It almost hurt more than the large purple bruise forming on her right shin. She was five, she wasn't meant to be this far out without her father or mother. She knew that, but she loved the trees bordering the far edge of the property. They were the best for climbing… not that she had planned on climbing them, not until she heard the small sound of stranded chirping at the base of one of the trees.

Through the tears in her amber eyes she could see a sudden blur of grey racing out towards her across the rolling hills of her family's expansive farm.

In what seemed like a blink of an eye the speck was standing at her feet in the form of a nine year old boy. A nine year old boy who was looking down at her with unmasked disdain.

"What are you doing?" he sneered without feeling. She always had some trouble understanding what he was saying, his language was only slightly different to hers but her developing mind was still just learning. Moreover his moods towards her seemed constantly to dart back and forth, it was difficult for her to keep up with how he might behave towards her, let alone anyone else outside of his sister and parents.

She inhaled in a fractured breath, sniffing sloppily "I- I fell…"

"Everyone's looking for you." Pietro sighed with unfeeling weariness.

"I-I f-fell…" she whimpered, her lower lip trembling. She clutched the soft mass in her right hand to her chest.

His blue eyes finally looked her over properly. She could feel the twigs caught in her mussed up plaits, she could see the dirt and small scrapes on her arms, she could still feel that horrible throbbing in her shin.

"It fell…" she explained when his clear blue inspection came to the puff ball bundled to her chest.

He went on to let out a scoff once his gaze landed on the large mark on her right leg under her white knee-length dress.

The little light haired girl was having trouble containing her emotions. She wanted so badly to keep him from making fun of her like he almost always did.

'Why couldn't Wanda have found me?' she asked herself, as she found it harder and harder to catch her breath. She hated this feeling. She hated the way was he looking down at her.

Zora tried focusing on the bird in her hands, but it wasn't working.

"Hey, hey, hey…" he had come to crouch next to her. His voice, his eyes, his touch on her shoulders, all at once everything about him was gentle. "Solnyshka…" he whispered. Despite herself Zora could feel a small smile tugging at her lips when he used her family's term of endearment for her. Even so each one of her inhales continued to be stuttered.

He shuffled slightly closer, she could hear the smile in his words as he crooned softly "… you are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy…"

"W-when skies are grey…" her shaky voice joined his, singing her mother's favourite lullaby, one that was from the older woman's long missed home country.

Zora raised her gaze to meet his with a matching, albeit somewhat wetter, grin.

With a last twitch of his lips the boy abruptly stood up. "Come on now…" he held out his hand to her. "Dinner's waiting..."

Taking a strong sniff, Zora shook her head defiantly. "I can do it myself."

"Fine" he rolled his eyes and began walking back in the direction he had come from just beyond the hills where the Summer sun was beginning to set.

Huffing out a gasp, Zora lifted herself up off of the shaded grass under the huge tree she fallen out of earlier. It may have made more sense to go about it slowly, but she didn't want him to get too far without her and more than that she had simply wanted to get it done and over with.

Wincing, Zora rushed to keep up with the speedy boy's pace. All the while she kept an eye on the small life she was carrying.

"Better to let it die…" Pietro asserted without breaking his stride, forcing her to stay in time with his step.

"Why Etro?" Zora asked in English with innocent curiosity.

"Will be burden… mouth to feed." He gave as a blunt reply in somewhat imperfect English, his blue focus on the grassy path ahead. He had really taken well to her mother's lessons. Both the twins had. It was impressive especially considering he and his sister only ever really practiced for the few weeks a year when they visited Zora's family along with their parents.

Zora's father and her Uncle Django, the twins' father, had served together. Forging a bond deeper than any of the children could understand at that moment.

Beyond Summers fishing and farming, Winters exchanging gifts, Autumns hearing stories of her mother's home country all Zora could understand was that Wanda and Pietro had always been a part of her life. Each memory she had of her existence up to that point had these two, her closest friends, in it.

"Idiot girl." Pietro pulled her arm to make her walk faster. She had been starting to dawdle while carefully contemplating what he had said to her about the bird in her light grasp.

The sun's last pink glow was fading and the dark-haired boy was clearly eager to make it back home for supper.

"Ow Etro! My leg!" She struggled to keep up with him, tripping over her feet and trying to keep the distressed fluffy animal in her care safe. "You're hurting..." she cried, unsuccessfully yanking her arm away from him. "Ahh!"

He finally stopped, turning to face her, his fingers still wrapped around her freshly sore bicep.

Zora bit her bottom lip in an effort to keep it from trembling. She didn't want him to call her stupid or dumb or an idiot again.

But it was painful and she couldn't keep the water from welling up in her eyes.

When he saw her tears forming his icy glare softened "Sol..." he moved to console her as he had done before.

But she interrupted the young boy's gesture by stepping away from him "Wh-why are you so mean to me?" Zora hiccuped through her tears. She could feel the anger building inside her as she wiped her running nose with the back of her forearm.

"What?" he paused in his motion to comfort her. His dark brow furrowing in honest confusion.

"You're so nice to Wanda. Why can't you..."

"She's my sister." He stated simply, not letting her reach the end of her question.

"Can't I be..."

"No." He cut her off with a bored sigh, his head lolling back to look up at the darkening sky.

"Oh..." Zora nodded, pretending to understand, as she swallowed the lump in her throat. 'Don't cry. Don't cry.'

Wanda told her that they were a family, she promised they were sisters, which had thrilled Zora to no end. To have a sister was no small thing, especially after years of being told that she was an only child.

But it wasn't enough. She longed for the real closeness she saw between the twins. She wanted so terribly to have a connection like that... she wanted both, a sister and a brother.

He had to have known how desperately she was trying to meet with his approval. And still every time she would reach out he would slap her hand away too fast for anyone else, even Wanda, to see.

Feeling the sting of this latest hit, Zora rubbed the back of her left calf against the bruise aching on her right shin.

Another annoyed breath from Pietro drew her attention. Rolling his shoulders he knelt in front of Zora, his back facing her.

Zora blinked at the back of his grey shirt.

"Get on."

"Oh" Zora's previous sadness faded. A wide bright grin broke across her face. Fearful he'd rescind the offer she clambered on to his back as fast as she could. He rarely volunteered to give her piggy-back rides anymore.

"Careful" his hissed as her heel dug against his rib.

"Sorry." Zora placed her arms securely around his neck, being sure to have a firm grip on the fluttering creature in her hand.

"Idiot girl..." he heaved a breath, placing his arms around the legs she'd locked around his middle. She felt a light brush across the tender spot on her shin for half a moment, before he fastened his hold closer to her knees. Pietro stood up, shaking his head as he did so that his long messy hair tickled Zora's nose.

Even with her added weight, he moved quickly. A fact in spite of which the small bird in her hands settled down. A very opposite reaction to the one Zora was having.

"Etro! Slow down!" Zora cried. She wasn't ever worried about him dropping her, but the impact of how fast he was going was making her stomach flip.

"I'm hungry." He stated, not slowing down.

"You're always hungry."

"So?" He jerked his head to the side to scowl at her. "It's your fault we're even out here this late."

Zora flinched at his tone. "I'm sorry Pietro..." She mumbled, her voice small as she nestled her blonde haired head against his shoulder to look at the stars that were beginning to twinkle on the horizon.

She squeezed his neck in a soft apology, hoping that he knew she had meant it.

* * *

"It didn't work." Someone above her lying form said.

Zora's mind was reeling, her eyes unwilling to open, her head pounding along with her heart. Where was she? Had they found her again? What happened to him? Was Wanda with him? A terrified stab of memory struck her. She felt sick, she felt fear. This uncertain darkness had been what she had fought so hard to escape.

"It did... in a way..." A deep voice commented. Her muddled brain absorbed that these people were speaking English.

'It's not them...' a slight wave of relief hit her, though her guard was still drawn high. Zora had no reason to trust that these men would do her no harm simply because they did not sound like the men who haunted her worst nightmares.

"That's not the same thing as 'worked' grandpa."

"Didn't say it was Stark." The man from before spoke up again, this time defensively.

'Stark?...' Her heart thudded in confused pain, as she attempted to focus her scrambled thoughts.

"Fellas could we not?" A tired female voice piped in.

"Oh yeah sure, let's just let Cap swoon over this random girl with magical microwave hands that popped up out freaking nowhere."

Though only three people were speaking, Zora could somehow sense that there was someone else in the room.

"I am not swooning..." the low voiced man replied "... and you'd be one to talk about microwave hands Iron Man..."

'Iron Man.'

Someone scoffed as Stark snapped back, "Yeah. And you if ever need to be thawed out again you know exactly who call."

"What a relief." The deep voiced man bit out acerbically.

There was a shuffling sound, heavy steps on a metal floor, she could tell the bodies in the room were moving around. A gruff voice that she managed to recognize as the archer's, suddenly sounded out in the echoing space. "She tried saving him..."

'Tried...' her thoughts raced back to the silver haired man on that wrecked street, but she just couldn't remember what had happened to him. Panic struck her. 'Is he...?'

Her thoughts were cut short however when the bowman asked "Didn't you?" in a forceful question that was clearly directed towards her.

There was a heavy silence. Zora could feel the weight of multiple pairs of eyes on her, a feeling she had never been comfortable with. Finally the man identified as Iron Man spoke. "Look at her, Barton. She's passed out."

Zora continued to do her utmost to remain stock still, but the sharp eyed man was clearly not buying it.

"I am looking at her. She's not..." she could feel the archer near her resting body. "No point hiding it. Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

Unable to stop herself Zora anxiously tugged her bottom lip between her teeth out of nervous habit. 'Damnit...' Her amber eyes shot open. Zora barely had time to take in the four occupants surrounding her in the room before attempting to follow through on her first instinct, however she couldn't find the energy to make that particular trick work. So instead she choose the next best thing, which was to try to sit up and dash for what ever exit she could find. The only problem was that her woozy head and jelly like legs were not in any state to cooperate with her sudden movement.

She had just enough time to hear the sounds of protests and feel something strong grip her before darkness over took her once again.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Any feedback is appreciated :)**

 **Not sure when I'll be able to update again, but I'll do my best.**


	3. Chapter 3: Seven Years

**Hey everyone! Thanks for checking out this story and the support (favoriting, etc.) it really mean so much to me :) I went back and edited the last two chapters (adding 'a' and 'he' and 'the' where I needed to) so hopefully I managed to catch most of them and it flows better. Onward!**

 **Chapter Three** **–** **Seven Years**

"... Spinning, laughing, dancing

To her favorite song

She's a little girl with nothing wrong

And she's all alone..."

 **–** Norah Jones

* * *

Those days she had been so unaware. Her small life involved chasing fireflies and painting in colouring books and avoiding Nanny Grox when she has spilled something on the front hall's carpet.

She did had no idea what was to come. How could she?

Her first realization that something strange was starting to happen was when she had stumbled upon her mother crying in the warm fire lit dining room. It was nearing Christmas and school had been let out early, it had all been good news as far Zora was concerned, so she could see no reason why her mother would be weeping.

"Mama?" Zora had been six nearly seven at the time, she had no clue what had been happening in the outside world. Her mother's distracted green eyes had turned away from the dark night sky outside the frost covered window "Did you get hurt?" she asked in English with childlike concern for the older woman.

Surprised out of her daze, Zora's mother had given her daughter a weak, defeated smile. "Come here my darling." She held out her long pale arms.

The young girl willingly ran into her mother's warm embrace. The graceful woman had crouched to lift the small girl against her body, before moving to one of the dining room chairs pulled nearest to the window.

Zora tugged herself away from her mother's form slightly. She could see the moon's light reflecting against the tears on her eyelashes.

Touching her mother's face Zora queried once more in a soft whisper, "Did you get hurt?"

Giving a sad chuckle Zora's mother brushed her own thumb lovingly across the six year old's cheek.

"You could say that, Solnyshka..." the dark haired woman spoke in the language of Zora's father, with only a slight American twinge to her words. She sighed nestling her cheek into the girl's palm. "The world is a cruel and uncertain place, Zora." Her green eyes returned to the cold view of the snow covered trees glistening in the silvery moon light.

Not quite sure about what to say the little blonde haired girl simply continued to wipe her mother's eyes. "It will be ok." She had whispered, though in all honesty Zora had meant it as as question more than anything else.

The woman's painted smile lifted again. "You are the light of my life," she spoke to Zora softly, raising her child's hands to her lips and kissing them. "You make the whole world brighter."

Zora returned the smile and sincerely spoke, "You too, Mama."

Taking in a deep breath her mother opened her mouth as if she was deciding whether or not to say anything. "Solnyshka..." she paused once more for a second, before finally seeming to figure out what she wanted to say. "How would you feel about Wanda and Pietro coming to stay here?"

A wide smile lit up Zora's whole face, she jiggled up down and on her mother's lap in excitement. "When will they come?"

"In two weeks."

A million thrilling activities they could do together galloped through her mind. The twins had only been there three months ago, but that had been during Summer. Now it was a new season and they could have adventures in the ice. And it wouldn't be like last Winter.

Pietro wouldn't be annoyed anymore because she had finally grown up since last year. She wasn't too slow to make snowballs for snowball fights any longer, she'd been practicing. She had been ice fishing with her father, and had gotten better at avoiding cracks in the frozen water. Pietro wouldn't have to hoist her out of the icy lake again like he did last time when she hadn't been fast enough to keep her foot from slipping into the current below the frost.

He had given her his left sock and boot in exchange for carrying her soaked ones so that her toes wouldn't turn blue on their trek back to where their fathers had set their fishing rods. If Wanda had been there she would calmed down Pietro's abrupt irritation, but Wanda had never enjoyed ice fishing. So Zora had spent the entire walk back in the bitter cold wearing mismatched shoes and few limping steps behind Pietro, catching bits of his muttering about his constantly having to take care of her.

The whole time her amber eyes glued to his bare left foot in the white snow.

'This time I won't make him angry. He won't have to watch out for what I do at all.' She reinforced to herself, as her thoughts skipped along to another happy question.

"Will Wanda and Auntie Marya teach me how to read their cards like they promised?"

Drawing her lips together the older woman took a distracted look away to the corner of the large room. "Uncle Django and Auntie Marya won't be coming this time, darling."

"Oh..." Zora's light brow creased in confusion as she looked at her mother. Pietro and Wanda had visited without their parents before, so Zora still couldn't understand why her mother was upset. She could feel that something else was not right. Her naive mind tried to search through the possibilities of what could have happened. "Has Nanny Grox told you?"

Green eyes snapped back to meet Zora's amber ones. "Told me what?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Zora Antonia Curstrek." Her mother put on a stern face.

"I accidentally let Eduardo out of his cage..." the six year old referred to the song thrush she had saved the Summer before and nursed back to health.

"Accidentally?" Her mother asked disbelievingly.

Biting her lip, Zora faced her mother. She tried to hold back her confession until she finally broke. "He was so bored in there! I didn't know he was gonna poop all over the settee..." Zora knew her mother would never make her get rid of the little bird, she too had grown to love his music and even helped name him when Zora had brought his tiny injured body home. But still the young girl could not keep herself from being nervous as she waited for her mother's response.

"Zora..." the older woman shook her elegant head with an amused sigh. She cuddled the relieved girl closer, her forest coloured eyes moving back to the Winter scene outside.

A few minutes later, as snow began to fall gently from the night sky and sleep approached, Zora mumbled. "I like the dark."

"Of course you do sweetheart." Her mother nuzzled her nose against Zora's yellow hair. "It's in the dark where bright things shine best."

* * *

Zora woke up with a start. Her head was spinning. She had dreamed about her mother so many times over the years that she had lost count. And each time all she could remember about her were her green eyes and pale arms and the feeling of comfort she had given her as a child.

"What happened?" She asked herself in her own language as memories of where she was fuzzily came back. Slowly she pushed herself to sit up on the mattress that she'd been laying on. From what little she could see in the dim light it looked as though she was in some sort of medical facility.

"Mmm you fainted Lite Brite." A voice speaking English startled her from behind.

She jerked her head, the fast movement caused her to see stars for moment, but after they cleared she saw a man who many in her country had come to despise. Herself included.

"You." She spoke once again in her own tongue.

"Me!" The dark-haired man gasped and clutched his hand to his chest. Walking around the bed to stand in front of her. He sniggered slightly at his own actions, dropping his hand to point at her. "Guess that just leaves the question of who you are." His dark eyes lost their air of playfulness.

Rather than answering him she asked the question that she couldn't keep from burning in her mind. "Where's Pietro?"

Inhaling sharply Stark seemed to decide to let go of his own question, for the moment anyway. "Oh, Blur Boy? He's all right... you know other than the whole getting shot through by multiple bullets and practically dying thing." He added, nonchalantly waving his arms around as though he were performing to an audience, as opposed to speaking to a single person.

"What do you mean 'all right'?" her amber eyes narrowed.

"Well between your zapping and his sped up metabolism he's healing... actually he has healed considerably fast."

She felt a pang of fear and a simmering at her fingertips. 'He knows...' Zora's gaze was fixed on the tycoon, who was so casually dressed in dark clothing in front of her, as she processed what he had said. This man had helped save the people of Sokovia... but he had also been the reason for so much needless suffering.

And right now he was toying with her.

"Wha..." the young woman cut herself off when she realized that she hadn't switched to speaking English and yet somehow the man had been able to understand her. "You know my language?" she asked in her own tongue.

The man gave her a gleeful smile and turned his head to point to a device in his left ear. "Friday's translating."

"Friday?" she finally used the English her mother had worked so hard to teach her.

"My A. I. She's beautiful, if I do say so myself..." he puffed his chest out with some fatherly pride "... say hello to our guest Friday."

"Hello Miss. Curstrek." Zora jumped in surprise as the computerized voice of a woman filled the room. "Happy to have you as our guest." The digital voice repeated her master's phrasing.

Adjusting to fact that there was this new presence in the room Zora, deciding to carry on in Stark's language, started to ask, "How did you know my nam...?"

"Wanda mentioned it." The billionaire said with bland disinterest, though Zora could tell he was watching her carefully for a reaction.

Her face remained calm while her mind raced at the revelation. 'Wanda...' a million things could have happened to her. A new fear gripped Zora as she thought of what could have gotten her old friend to cooperate with the other side.

"But honestly you do know who I am," he dramatically waved his hand over his face as though he were pointing out an obvious fact. "I could pretty much have found out who you were from anywhere, at anytime. I was just asking out of... politeness."

"Zora Antonia Curstrek. Born April 28, 1994. 21 years old." Friday began giving an accurate list of details about her early life, everything about her that would ever have been filed away somewhere "... Daughter of Antoin and Masha Curstek. He was a decorated military general, honourably discharged. She was a homemaker. Before the political turmoil you grew up on an estate turned working farm on the outskirts of Sokovia that your father inherited from his father, a wealthy industrialist. You never excelled in public school. Though one of your teacher's wrote that you had an affinity for biochemistry when left to your own devices. You dropped out of Lanchesi Public school at age 17, presumably to..."

"Enough." Zora let out an exasperated breath, it was overwhelming to hear someone else check off events in her life so effortlessly.

'So much for all that hiding...'

"Yeah so..." Stark signaled the end of the demonstration "... though you did go M. I. A. for a couple of years there..." the dark haired man trailed off, some expectant curiosity in his stare.

However, Zora wasn't in the mood to participate with his curiosity, so she asked her own question, "Wanda?"

He nodded.

"And is she your guest too?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." He picked up one of the medical utensils that had been resting on the counter top he'd been standing next to and began fiddling with it.

"What does that mean?"

Stark gave her yet another haphazard shrug, still distracted by the item he had in his grasp. "She's here because she wants to be."

Zora resisted the urge to call him a liar as she recalled what she had seen of Pietro's actions during the fight. She pressed forward, "And where exactly is here?"

"Ahh..." he looked up at her with a small wince "...that part's a little complicated."

"How?"

"It's complicated." He stated again, pushing them both into what seemed like a staring contest.

In the shadowy light of the room she thought of how strange it was to see someone who seemed so familiar to her in the flesh. It was odd to think that she knew him as well as she did without ever actually having had met him.

"Mr. Stark. Why are you here?" Zora asked finally breaking the silence.

"'Cause I pay the bills." He raised his arms in a gloating manner, "And I'm Iron Man."

"I mean in this room. Why are you here? You're not a medical doctor."

"No. But I am a scientist." He put down the metal gadget with a loud clank that even caused him to twitch, "And needless to say you and your twin friends are scientifically fascinating." Stark finished despite his minor halt in speaking.

"Fascinating like some sort of..." she struggled to find the correct English term "... lab mouse?"

"Lab rat," he corrected, before going on, "Not entirely..." he paused for brief a moment, looking her over "... ok maybe a little. What's your deal anyway?" he spoke quickly, all at once like some excited wide-eyed child. "I'm guessing the lightening hands are some kind of photon healing thing right? I bet energizing cells is draining though isn't it?" Stark had moved closer in his enthusiasm, he was now a foot away from her seated form, eyeing her with a self satisfied look on his face.

Zora stopped herself from nodding along. She remembered what she had forced herself to become. She wasn't going back ever again. "I'm not going to be your lab rat, Mr. Stark."

That smug grin fell off the man's face. "I wasn't suggesting you had to be..."

Her amber eyes flicked over his disappointed expression. "It's funny..." She shook her head as she went on, her messy blonde hair falling into her eyeline "... you accessed all that information about me, but missed one important point."

Pursing his lips, he stepped back before asking. "And what's that?"

"How my parents died."

He didn't say anything, his face held a new emotion, one that was finally showing some of it's wear.

"'Political turmoil'... " she jeered, "... such a gentle way to put what you did to them, Mr. Stark."

* * *

 **Once again thanks so much for checking out this story. I'm actually having a lot of fun writing this so let's just keep our fingers crossed that writer's block doesn't strike again.**

 **Please let me know what you think. I'd love to hear anything you guys have to say.**

 **(Sorry for the editing - did my best) :)**


	4. Chapter 4: Elastic Heart

**Hi everyone!**

 **Sorry for the delay. The story is definitely not gonna be what everyone might be expecting. Hope you still stick with it.**

 **Any how thanks so much for the support. Hope you're enjoying it. Felt kind of strange while writing this chapter. Not sure why. Anyhow just let me know if it shows I guess... please :) Once again apologies for any editing issues. Let's go!**

 **Chapter Four – Elastic Heart**

"... I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard,

Yeah, I may snap and I move fast

But you won't see me fall apart

'Cause I've got an elastic heart..."

 **–** Sia

* * *

Pietro was not happy.

They were all moving so infuriatingly slow. He'd already run over every surface of his bunk more times than he could count.

It had quickly become tedious.

Now he was sitting still on his bed. As still as he could anyway. His charged blue stare had been centred on the shuddering of the floor of the helicarrier traveling to their as yet unknown destination.

Since beginning this strange journey with his powers the practice of focusing had turned into a type of mediation for him. Zeroing in on the mirco-vibrations that he could see and sense in everything. The earth, the air, people, water. Everything buzzed at it's own frequency and if he held his concentration long enough he could he could feel the vibrations within his own body. Though in his case 'long enough' spanned the length of a millisecond for a normal person.

Shoving his weary hand through his scraggly silver hair, the blue-eyed man glanced at the door for perhaps the billionth time in the last hour.

He really did not appreciate being confined. They honestly didn't have to worry as much as they obviously were worrying.

True he still had some pain in the spots where the bullets had struck him, but that was basically nothing anymore, soon he would be completely healed. He could practically feel his skin stitching back together at that very moment.

Rolling up his right shirt sleeve, Pietro traced his fingers over the reddish circle that remained following the fight against Ultron.

That one he had managed to heal himself, but... his raised his hand to touch the spot on his chest. Through the fabric of his navy cotton shirt he could barely feel the bullet hole that had very nearly stopped his heart.

'You are my sunshine...' A warm tingling spread over the area beneath his hand.

And he recognized it.

It had felt like being carefully pieced back together.

It had felt as though someone had cared.

He had expected to see Wanda above him, but he had been wrong in his assumption.

Ordinarily he was so fast that practically nothing would slip by his notice. He hated that he had missed out on what had happened and how.

He hated even more that he had blacked out before he could really understand what she had been doing.

'She...' he dropped his hands.

How long had it been since they had seen each other?

Time had always been a difficult thing for him to grasp. He supposed that when a person spent most of their life being consumed by one thought that their conception of time was distorted. He could say in no uncertain terms that he had waited years and an age to confront Tony Stark. But he couldn't say, off the top of his head, how long that had been exactly.

Which really was saying something, considering the accelerated level at which his mind and cognitive abilities functioned.

'I had to have been 23...' it took him a moment to figure out his current age, based on the time that had passed '... so two years ago...' his thoughts were suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of how he had treated her, and what he had done.

"Pietro..." all at once, as though as she could sense his distress, his twin sister appeared at his side. His mind had been elsewhere he barely registered the sound of the door slamming shut and locking behind her.

Squeezing his eyes closed, Pietro shook his head. He breathed out harshly in Sokovian, "I can't be in here any longer Wanda." The silver haired man stood up in front of her with an unnatural speed that she had grown used to. Her concerned brown eyes studied his face carefully. "This..." he moved in a blur to pound on the room's metallic door "...is killing me."

"It's killing you?" she replied in their language, raising a quizzical brow and crossing her arms in front of her chest. The red wrap draped around her shoulders slipped a little at the movement. He resisted the urge to set it right so that she wouldn't be cold, instead he directed his thoughts to his annoyance at being trapped.

"I need space. I need something other than this cage."

"It's not a cage Pietro."

"Then why can't I leave?"

"Because you haven't healed fully and you'll probably push yourself and get hurt."

"I won't," was his short reply.

Rolling her eyes Wanda moved to sit on the mattress he had only just be occupying.

"This isn't fair."

"This isn't fair?" She scoffed softly without any humour. "I think we're meant to be past that point by now."

"Are we?" Pietro asked, uncertain of the answer himself.

Wanda sighed and looked down at her palms for a pregnant stretch of time that seemed to go on forever for him. "What wasn't fair was feeling like I'd lost the only person I had left in the world." She spoke after a time, hardly moving her lips.

"Wanda I..."

"I understand why you did it Pietro," she smiled meekly at him, before gritting her teeth, "but it makes me angry. And it scared me... very badly."

"But I'm ok now." He ran around the room in less than half a second to prove his point seeking to comfort her as he came to a stop, kneeling at her side.

She snorted, "You didn't know you would be, Pietro. That's my point."

His blue eyes roamed over his sister's darkened expression, his heart broke for the pain he caused her.

"... But I knew that you would be," he gently answered her argument, causing her to lift her head in wonder. "That's my point." He clasped her hands in his. Her eyes drifted from his grip to his right arm.

He followed her focus to where his sleeve was still rolled up above the red spot on his pale skin.

"How is she?" He mumbled.

Letting out a weary breath, Wanda blinked away the water in her dark eyes. "She seems to be fine, medically speaking. Just... exhausted after..." her gaze moved to his t-shirt covered chest. Her hold on his hands tightened.

He returned the pressure as supportively as he could. In those first few hours of coming back he hadn't really been in a position to think properly let alone form sentences. He could finally ask what he had wanted to, yet something inside of him was uncharacteristically telling him to hold off.

The silver haired man was all to ready to quickly push that feeling aside, as he questioned, "So she's awake?"

"She wasn't when I last saw her."

"When was that?"

"Two hours ago... Pietro, she... I was able to see what some of what her life has been..." Wanda's voice faded, her face grew mournful for their long lost friend.

'Friend...' he almost laughed at that term that had never truly fit.

He wasn't sure which of the many emotions he was feeling to latch on to.

Anger, curiosity, pain, worry, sorrow... regret maybe?

Regret had been a new sensation for him to grapple with. Much like what had occurred with time, hate and resentment hadn't left much room for any other sentiments to grow.

"She saved your life." Wanda stated.

"Yes she did..." he paused to think on that fact. He could still see her sneering at him with distaste despite which she put herself at risk to help him. "Did you know?" He finally asked one of the questions that had been pressing in his mind since he had first woken up.

Wanda shook her head. "I only ever knew as much as you did."

A small joking smirk tugged at Pietro's cheeks. "Poor you."

* * *

This stupid little chicken was going to kill him one day. 'Or it's gonna be the other way around.' He rolled his blue eyes when he realized she had fallen behind again.

"Etro! Please wait."

Squinting against the biting Winter wind the dark-haired boy turned around, his bare left foot burned as it twisted over the ice and snow.

He could hardly feel his toes anymore.

"Idiot girl." Pietro's blue gaze watched scornfully as the girl he had just fished out of the water tripped over his shoes.

Why did she have to come along?

He's the one who had wanted to trek further.

He's the one who had wanted to explore and she just kept following him around like some useless, whimpering puppy.

He wasn't stopping. The cold was spreading up his foot.

"Etro!"

He wasn't stopping.

"Etro!"

'I'm not stopping.' He thought to himself with determination as he carried on tromping against the icy wind.

Squinting his blue eyes he pushed his messy dark hair out of his face. 'We have to be close by now.' Though he could feel the tears building up because of the burning pain settling into his feet. With a deep breath he steeled himself. He wasn't the type to cry.

His father had fought through worse.

So he would fight through this.

Pietro wouldn't let himself be weak. Not even for the simpering thing following his foot steps.

'The world isn't safe...' his father's words echoed in his head.

The older man had told Pietro this fact since the boy could remember.

'Don't scare him.' His mother would scold his father.

'He needs to know.' The war worn man would look at his children, 'They both do.' That statement would always cause Pietro to wrap his arm tight around his sister.

"Etro!" Zora's voice sounded suddenly much closer to him and shocked him out of his thoughts.

Looking down to his right he saw that silly little girl had taken off his shoes so that she could keep up with him instead of keep her feet warm.

As he felt the chill in his toes grow, Pietro couldn't take anymore. "WHAT!" He turned to scream into her face.

"I just wanted to..." she held out her arms with his shoes and socks clasped in her fingers.

His icy eyes traveled down to see her little pink toes bare in the white snow.

"UGH!" He wanted to shake some sense into her, instead he hefted her on to his back, tramped towards the direction of the fishing holes and dumped her at her fathers' feet.

"Pietro!" Her imposing, dark-haired father exclaimed. "What happened?"

The young boy looked between the two men and the girl now bundled up in her father's lap.

"Are you all right Solnyshka?" He looked her over, his hands eventually moving to her feet. "She's frozen. What happened?" Her father accusingly asked Pietro for answers.

"Tell us boy." His father joined in with a supportive nod.

Pietro's jaw tightened. "Nothing. Zora was just being Zora. I..."

"Uncle Django, Etro's feet too." The little girl interupted.

"Wha- Jesus Pietro!" His father quickly gathered the brown-haired boy into his arms.

"The little chicken fell into the ice. She needed shoes."

"So you gave her yours?" His Uncle Ante questioned in an impressed tone.

Pietro nodded slowly, feeling his father's hold on him tighten as he did.

"Thank you." The old general said with immense honesty.

Watching as his Uncle preoccupied himself with Zora once more, Pietro let himself enjoy the warmth of his father's hand on his bare feet.

A thought occurred to him once the feeling returned to his toes. Lifting his head close to his father's ear, Pietro whispered. "Papa..."

"Yes, son?"

"I think she's going to kill me one day." He finished in earnest, earning a soft chuckle from his father that he didn't understand.

* * *

 **That's that. Hope you guys had fun with this chapter.**

 **Really gonna try to do better with the next update.**

 **Wishful thinking but still...**


	5. Chapter 5: Some Rain Must Fall

**Hey everyone! Glad to see that people have been reading the story!**

 **Hopefully this chapter will be good enough to keep your interest and the pace changes aren't too bad.**

 **Please let me know what you think!**

 **On we go!**

 **Chapter Five – Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall**

"… Into each and every life some rain has got to fall

But too much of that stuff

Is fallin' into mine…"

– Ella Fitzgerald

* * *

Steve had been walking around the compound for two hours since the girl had fainted on the helicarrier.

Rolling his tight neck under the onslaught of water Steve silently corrected that statement.

Walking around might have been a undercutting of what he had actually been doing.

He had acquainted himself with some of the facility. It was very modern. Very Stark. Though the colourful couches and accents in the common areas of the building rang more of Pepper's tastes than they did of Tony's.

Since landing Steve had mostly been knocking the stuffing out of several punching bags in the training hall.

They had been debriefed on the flight, as much as they could have been at this point.

The fallout from what had happened at Sokovia would likely take years to fully comprehend.

Hell! They were still dealing with the aftermath of the World War he'd lost so many decades of his own life for.

Clenching his hands in to fists the super soldier felt his back tense as he gently let his knuckles hit the tile of the shower wall in his quarters. His eyes fell closed for a moment.

The heat from the water felt nice beating down on his back. It was so easy for him to fall back into the cold since that day he'd crashed in the snow. Showers and even the occasional bath had become soothing a ritual for him, especially when he felt that familiar cold looming at the edges of his consciousness.

Turning off the water. The blond man took in a hesitant breath, unsure of whether he would be ready to deal with what waited outside.

So much had changed in the past three years. Loki, SHEILD, Ultron had all shifted the balance. 'And Buc…' he was quick to stop that thought in its tracks. He was not prepared to deal with the implications of that yet.

It was no longer as simple as bad guys versus good guys.

It was super powered near gods versus them.

'The Avengers.' Steve scoffed humourlessly stepping out of the shower into the steam filled bathroom.

He shook his blond hair causing droplets of water to hit the floor. As he dried off with a towel, Steve's thoughts remained on the state of things.

Right now he was dealing with a group that he wasn't sure he even really understood.

Stark, Roadie and Sam were all relatively simple. Military, they followed orders willingly.

His scoff turned into a small smile as he contemplated Stark falling into line. 'Relatively simple.'

He finished drying off as he walked into the adjoining room that housed what he'd been told was his bed, his dresser, his TV and his everyday clothes.

For some reason that was disparaging for Steve. His blue eyes scanned the room and the attached ensuite. It wasn't his.

That apartment SHEILD had given him hadn't been technically been his either. But he had damn well earned it with everything he had done for them.

'Like lie and steal and sell fake truths and…' He had to cut those thoughts off too.

His focus fell to his shield resting at the foot of the king sized bed that was centred against the back wall of the room. That familiar item held comfort for him. Knowing that piece of his history was close by, along with his old suit which was currently being washed and repaired, was somewhat calming for him.

Somewhat... right now the rest of it was all too much and he had things to take care of for his team. Namely turning the team into an actual team.

Going to the closet Steve pulled out a grey t shirt and some sweats. Changing, he tried to figure out the less simple parts of the new squad.

Natasha would be easy enough to wrangle, for lack of a better word, and Clint was typically on board with Avengers projects. The fact he'd offered them his home as a literal safe house during the fight with Ultron was evidence of that.

The others though… Steve sighed, his eyes travelling to the full length mirror beside the closet in this room.

Roughly he pushed a hand forward through his hair, so it was ruffled out of its natural quaff. A part of him wanted to be defiant and leave it messy, but that other piece of him, the Steve Rogers stuck in the past wanted it back in place.

Staring at his reflection he wasn't so sure stuck was the right way to define it. Maybe it was more attachment than anything else.

Since coming out of the ice he had to adjust to a lot of things.

Messy hair wasn't really all that new a concept especially during the war but the neat style had always been important for him. A link to normalcy.

His mother had taken great pride in having her boys look well kept.

'Her boys…' Steve couldn't keep the thought of his best friend away this time. At least not fully. 'What would ma have to say about Buck's hair during the war or mine now?' He gave his mirror image a bittersweet smile. For the first time in a long time allowing himself to use his friend's name.

Of course he constantly wondered about him. He couldn't help it. But it wasn't as though he sought out those memories. Even the good ones were tainted by the realities of the present.

'Focus Steve. Focus.' His mouth pinched in determination. He loosely brushed his hair back with his fingers. Centring his mind on the problems at hand.

Stark's clean up forces and iron legion were aiding with the Sokovian refugees and the crisis response to the incident.

Steve had to keep his head in the game in terms of the team.

Bruce had made his position pretty clear by his determined absence.

Thor was not going to hang around Earth it seemed. It made sense. Earth was as far as Steve could fathom without getting too much of a headache. He couldn't begin to imagine what Thor had to deal with up _there._ He suspected that their dealings with Loki had barely scratched the surface of what was floating around in space.

With yet another heavy breath Steve made his way to the door.

Down here they had more than enough to handle.

There was Vision, who seemed reasonable. The Captain wasn't quite sure how to connect with him just yet. But his manner was measured in every respect and Steve could work with that.

The rest of them though.

A bunch of restless and angry teenagers.

Perhaps it was unfair to see them as so much younger. They were barely over 25 but both Wanda and Pietro had experienced more than anyone should have in their years. It had stunted something in them that much was clear.

Steve walked down the corridors of the facility. Out of the area designated for living and past a series of armed doors with individual codes that lead to the medical wing. Pietro was practically healed, keeping him in his room had been a precaution. The silver haired boy had made no bones about showing his displeasure at being confined. Steve hadn't been completely behind the decision but the runner had a problem with staying still.

And then there was the other girl.

The blonde one with healing light in her hands.

She had saved Pietro and nearly killed herself to do it.

She'd been knocked out for most of the previous day and a majority of the current one as well.

Maybe she had done it out of the goodness of her heart or maybe she hadn't realized what she was doing, either way she had almost died.

Not only that but judging by the way Wanda had shut up after seeing the girl and Clint's description of what had happened there was obviously a complicated history between her and the Maximoff twins.

Steve's mind lingered on that look on Wanda's face when she realized who had saved her brother. She had simply whispered the girl's name then gone stone silent, hovering near her blonde head before running off to her brother.

When the girl had woken up it had been Clint who had noticed, wasn't really a big surprise. He had been arguing with Tony as per usual and their focus was diverted.

But once she had woken up and fearfully taken stock of the room Steve had felt something he hadn't expected. The small twist that had taken up residence in his gut since he'd seen Buck again wasn't there anymore... for a time anyway. Almost as soon as he had felt it disappear, it had seemed to have returned. Just as the girl tried to stand up and run for the door as a matter of fact.

Clint had been closest and had caught her when she'd fainted again. No one else in the room had mentioned that feeling. Steve wasn't sure if it'd been in his head or not.

A feeling and name…

Other than that they had nothing on her but what Stark had pulled and even that hadn't been much.

Nearing the final door to the bay housing the girl Steve was stopped short in his tracks at the sight of a frowning dark haired man exiting that very room. He moved with purpose and seemed intent on forcefully hitting Steve's shoulder and grumbling when he walked by.

"Tony." Steve turned on the spot to nod his head in confused greeting at the man's back.

"Can it Rogers." Stark bit out over his shoulder.

"Something going on I should know about?" The blond soldier stood firm, his hands held at ease behind his back.

Tony spun about suddenly, his dark eyes filled with emotion that looked like anger and weariness. "Yeah, as a matter of fact Steven. Looks like your new recruit has it in for me too."

"What?"

"Apparently every bad thing in the world done with my weapons is somehow my fault! I try and save people." He walked back slowly his hands punctuating each sentence with a hard thump at his own chest, "I try and make up for the damages. I pay literally and figuratively to keep us going. Essentially I single-handedly bankroll the effort to protect the world. AND ALL THE WHILE I'M STILL SEEMINGLY THE WORST DAMN PERSON ON THE PLANET!" Tony was close enough now that Steve could see the real pain behind the anger of his words.

Somehow, even though Steve was only 30 physically and Tony was in his late forties, the Captain found himself feeling older. Usually he and Tony had a combative, uneasy relationship built on tense understanding. But sometimes an almost paternal sense came over Steve when he had dealings with Howard Stark's son. It may have been the fact that Steve had known his father so well during the war.

Guessing by what Tony had said, Steve had known Howard better than Tony had ever been able to. Some guilt flickered through his body. If he hadn't been frozen could he have been an uncle to a young Anthony Edward Stark? Given him someone to turn to when he'd lost his parents?

Now his youthful blue gaze skimmed sympathetically over the battle weathered man before him, "Tony."

Sniffing, Stark repositioned his head, posturing as he always did so well. "Forget it Rogers. The world needs a bad guy. As long as we keep the real bad eggs at bay who gives a shit right?"

The blond man slumped his shoulders, "That's not true Tony. You aren't a bad guy."

"Tell that to Lady Glowstick in there." Tony waved his arm towards the med bay door behind Steve.

"I will. But frankly I think you need to hear it too."

Tony rolled his eyes dramatically, backing away from the Captain. "I don't need a lecture. I hear your whole spiel whenever we go up against whatever it is. Yay! Go Team! 'Merica!" He grunted comically, though his face was still lined with bitter frustration.

"I mean it Tony. Someone's always gonna get hurt. It's conflict. All we do is try to… try to minimize the damage."

"Fantastic!" Tony said enthusiastically, giving Steve an ironic thumbs up and sarcastic grin. "I'll be sure to get that printed on some team t-shirts ASAP."

"Tony…" The blonde man let his arms fall to his sides with a sigh, "I just mean you're not a bad person for trying to save the world. Heck, you said it yourself the Stark foundation's the one to thank for most of the clean-up and rebuilding efforts. It's just there's a limit to what even we can do." He finished quietly.

That got Tony to hold his tongue for a second, his wavering gaze stuck to a space on the wall somewhere past Steve's head. "I hear yah." The dark-haired businessman finally nodded, his brown eyes snapping to the soldier for a quick second. It wasn't really clear if he had actually absorbed what Steve had said. Tony was already distractedly pulling his phone out his pants pocket.

"Listen I gotta go." The Tony looked up for a brief moment. "Got bills to pay…" he gestured around at the hallway, "mouths to feed." He stated finally with some real humour in his voice, as he sent a smug yet good-hearted grin Steve's way.

Deciding to drop the subject for the time being, Steve cracked a smile in return. His blue eyes appreciatively roamed the hall, "Yes. Guess you do." His eyes landed on the older man once again after a pause. "So, you gonna tell me what happened?"

Tony just shrugged again. "Figure she'll fill you in." He jutted his chin at the door behind Steve once more.

"You think so?" Steve raised an incredulous eyebrow at that.

"I think..." Tony began with emphasis only to carry on lightly, "Thor's heading out in a bit too if you wanna join me in sending him off." Tony shrugged his head over one of shoulders towards the main part of the facility. "I mean lil' lightening hands can wait. She probably needs a minute to cool off anyway."

"I…" Steve thought of the girl waiting in the med bay, then looked back to the man by the main exit door. Weighing his options he didn't see the harm in giving the girl a chance to collect herself properly. He looked back to Tony, smile still in place, "Sure."

* * *

 **So I hope you all liked.**

 **Sorry about the editing XP I try my best I promise.**

 **This story has sort of evolved since the original plot bunny so please bear with me.**

 **And please let me know what you think.**


	6. Chapter 6: Sweet Dreams

**SO... been a little while.**

 **Hope everyone's doing well.**

 **Thank you SOOOOO much for your support! I love hearing from you!**

 **Hopefully this chapter doesn't disappoint. Apologies about the editing. On we go!**

 **Chapter Six – Sweet Dreams**

"…Everybody's looking for something,

Some of them want to use you,

Some of them want to get used by you,

Some of them want to abuse you,

Some of them want to be abused…"

– Eurythmics

* * *

She wasn't sure how he'd been gone for.

It couldn't have been more than a half hour.

And in that time Zora's anger had faded.

It had been drowned out, not by worry or fear but by hunger.

That basic need that she hadn't been able to escape even when things had been at their worst had reared its annoyingly human head again.

The great Iron Man had offered to send in food but she had thrown that offer straight back in his face right before telling him exactly what she thought of him.

A part of her that she wanted to smother out was regretting it now.

According to Stark she'd fainted twice since having healed Pietro.

It was a wonder she was still even conscience.

There was no way for her tell how much of her energy she'd exerted.

No way except for the fact that her empty stomach was clenching in a painful way. She walked around the small clinical room. Stretching out her sore muscles as she did.

Now that she had more of a chance to explore she noticed that it felt different to the one she had found herself in the first time she'd opened her eyes amongst the strangers.

In the first room she hadn't really had too much of a chance to take in everything. But she'd seen enough to know that this room was bigger and housed more advanced looking technically equipment. In the low light Zora caught a glimpse of herself in the dark glass door of a cabinet hanging above a sink.

Her amber gaze moved away quickly.

She didn't need to look in a mirror to know that her skin was drained of colour, that her long blonde hair had gone limp and that her eyes had sunken in above the dark hollows in her face.

It was sight she was all too familiar with and she had never pushed herself so far before, so she could only imagine what she must've looked like now. Her thoughts drifted to the less than restful sleep she had managed to get, the dreams of her mother, of her past were not exactly soothing.

She shook herself out of those thoughts. 'You need to focus Zora.' She cast a glance at door before allowing her eyes to start slipping over anything she could use to help escape. Zora knew that getting out would be a long shot even if she could make it past the door but she had to try.

And what about Wanda? What about Pietro? Where were they? As much as she didn't want to feel a need to find them she couldn't keep the thoughts out of her head.

Zora wanted to smack herself, 'Yourself first Zora. That's what they did.' Wanda and Pietro's faces flashed before her eyes. 'Yourself first.' She steeled herself.

She couldn't be sure but she was certain that they were watching and monitoring her. The light haired woman couldn't pull her usual trick. That A.I. thing 'Friday' had seemed omnipresent and would likely report any suspicious behaviour to Stark right away.

So Zora settled on moving as calmly as possible around the practically empty room.

There were a series of tools that Stark had been playing with on the counter still. They didn't look dangerous, they were just basic medical equipment for checking a person's status.

'There's got to be someth…'

Zora was startled out of her thoughts by the mechanized sound of the room's door sliding open. It wasn't typical for people to be able to sneak up on her.

'Not anymore anyway…'

"Hey! Looks like Sleeping Beauty's woken up for real this time." That man, the archer, walked into room with a wide smile on his face and a large plastic cup in each of his hands. He'd changed out of his uniform and was wearing a grey t-shirt and what looked like a well-worn pair of cargo pants.

"What are you doing here?" She all but glared at this accomplice of Stark, her English hard and cold. Her body tensed as he began moving towards her in the confined space.

"Well, right now I'm giving you a little snack." He came to a stop a few feet away from her and held one of the cups out to her.

Her amber eyes guardedly assessed the cup before moving up to the man's grinning face.

"Oh come on!" The archer exclaimed, "Why would I poison you?"

"I don't know. Why would you?" She stood firm by the head of the bed in the middle of the room.

"Geezz you kids are so untrusting these days." The man rolled his light blue eyes. Before taking a sip out of each cup. "There." He smacked his lips together, "Just Clint Barton's magical mystery protein shake. Satisfied?" He asked holding out and waving the cup at her again.

Reluctantly Zora took the cup from him, if only to get him to shut up about it. She assessed him. Under his shirt she could tell there was a lot of muscle especially in his arms, at least a lot more than she had. 'How do I get out…' she had to admit her options weren't great. Zora thoughts raced as she tried to configure an escape that could involve this jovial looking man drinking down his shake. 'Maybe he can be eased…'

"So…" he started once he'd taken a large gulp out his cup. "How's it going?" He queried with an easy smile as though he were addressing a casual workmate.

Zora's light brow furrowed, "What do you want?"

"Me?" The man, who called himself Clint, shrugged as he drank more from his cup. "Dunno. Guess the answer to that changes every day. How about you?"

"No!" She slammed her relatively full cup on to the mattress top next to her, the tension of being locked up making her far more irritable then she tended to be when being questioned. Her plan to use him temporarily stalled, overcome by annoyance she clarified, "I meant what do you want from me?"

"Well right now I can tell you that I want you to eat." He nodded at the cup beside her again. "You really need it. Trust me." He said widening his eyes in what was meant to be an endearing look, but just resulted in Zora rolling her amber eyes. Wearily he went on, "It's been a while since you've been alert enough to have anything. Plus Tony said…"

Her senses pricked at that, "Ah! What did Mr. Stark say?"

"Just that you were probably hungry but you were being a brat about it."

"He called me a brat?" Zora couldn't keep herself from petulantly shooting back.

"I may have added that part." He drank out his cup again with a noncommittal shrug.

Resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes closed in frustration, Zora swore in her language under her breath before gritting out once again. "If that is your opinion then what are you doing here?"

"I'm trying to feed you, Goldie. I told you, Stark mentioned you'd refused his offer."

"And that's the only reason you came to see me?" She asked disbelief clear in her voice.

The jovial look he'd been sporting up to that point fell off his face. His blue eyes grew somber and serious. "I owe a debt."

Zora's face creased with yet more confusion. "What?"

"A bo- a man saved my life and the life of a boy in Sokovia at what would have been the expense of his own...would have been… if not for you."

She said nothing.

"You," he pointed to her, "saved him and by doing so saved me from having his life on my conscience. So, now I owe two debts. One to him. And one to you."

That took her a moment to digest properly. Watching the sharp eyed man standing in front of her, drinking out of his cup, Zora somewhat absently found herself lifting and taking a sniff at the contents of her own 'mystery' shake.

She grimaced at the smell.

"I know. I know." The man wore a smile once more. "I said it was magic. Not that it tasted good."

Zora simply stared back down at the greyish contents of her drink. Her mind wasn't settling.

"You know…" the man named Clint had clearly decided to carry on the conversation himself. "It's funny. I swear since that moment he got shot I had this tightness." She lifted her gaze to see him gesture to his chest. "Right here. The thing is, Goldie. When you woke up, for a few seconds I felt it go away. Not completely. But just for a few seconds it dissipated and when it came back it wasn't the same. It was still there but… somehow less."

Zora attempted to keep a mask of coolness on her face. She'd had enough practice at this point but the lack of strength in her body was making it hard to keep it from slipping. Her panic was overwhelming.

He sighed when she didn't say anything.

"Any ideas on that?" He prompted.

"You realized I was still alive too? Your conscience was clear again?" She shrugged.

"Nah. Don't think that was it."

"Then I can't help you Mr. Barton." Zora stated simply.

With a huff of breath Clint shook head down at his feet, "Now that's too bad. I was hoping to get the team all set up before punching out."

"Punching out?"

"Yeah. Not that I'm really advertising it but I've been thinking about the future. My retirement to be exact." His gaze clouded with distraction for a moment, "Especially after this last fight… I wanna make sure my team is in good hands."

"What team?" She asked causing his attention to snap back.

"You know…" he began listing, "Captain America, Thor, Hulk, Wanda…"

"Wanda?" Zora couldn't keep the sharp stab of worry that struck her. She wished it was anything else… just curiosity, but she wasn't able to deny the worry that overcame her in that moment.

And she wasn't the only one, somehow the archer's gaze grew sharper at her interruption, "You're friends weren't you?"

"We…" her mouth was dry, as she struggled to answer "…what does it matter? She's here helping you now."

"She is. And so could you."

It took a minute for her to fully understand what he had just said, and still she asked, "I beg your pardon?"

"You seem like a decent enough kid." He smiled at her lightly, "No question you've been put through the ringer, but you've got something going on. And that could be your chance to make a difference in the world."

"My chance?"

"Yep. The big one."

"You want me to join your team." She said rather than queried.

"In short yes."

"Why?"

"I think you know why."

"Do I? I fainted. What makes you so sure I can do anything…"

He gave her a disbelieving stare coupled with a tsk. "You're skills are ones that could be handy in a tough spot."

"So you want to use me?" She sighed in a bored voice, though internally her heart was racing, "I've been down this path before. Locked up and studied. I am not eager to be forced into helping The Avengers with their schemes."

"You're not locked up." The blue eyed man walked towards the door and pressed a single button on the panel, demonstrating that the door opened from the inside. "You can leave whenever you chose. Though getting back in isn't so easy..." He turned back to her, carrying on over the sound of the door sliding closed again. "I want you do what you want." His tone of voice deepened, "And from what I can tell you want to help or at least help make the world a safer place."

"For who?" Zora asked folding her arms over her chest.

"For everyone."

Scoffing bitterly she replied, "Tell that to my people. Tell that to the Sokovians Mr. Barton."

He fell quiet at that, the tension in the room mounting before he spoke again, "I'll admit it can get… messy at times. But I can guarantee what we do is a lot less messy then it would be if the other guys got their way."

"What makes you so sure that they would get their way?"

"Because, Goldie, The Avengers are usually all that's standing in their way. Nothing else quite makes the cut." His smile was kind and his gaze was one of sincerity, "We're by no means prefect, but we do our best. Some of us may not always seem it, but we're human or at least have some humanity in us and we fight like hell to keep that and the world safe."

Zora's tongue felt heavy as she tried to figure out what to think, let alone how to react to what he was saying. Could this be a way out? For some reason she wasn't able to bring herself to say anything more than, "And you want me to join?"

He gave a curt nod.

"Even though you're leaving yourself."

"Flirting with retirement." He offered with a humourous grin, before adding, "Yes."

She tried not to show her confusion at his phrasing, stating instead, "You don't even know me."

"You saved a man's life at your own risk. Plus, Wanda seems to trust you."

'Sol…' Wanda's voice filled her head. Those dreams from the nights before danced in front of her eyes.

"You've spoken to her?" Zora swallowed thickly.

"Yep."

"And she trusts me?" Her voice was quiet now, as though she were speaking more to herself than anyone else.

At that the archer's eyebrows shot up, "Yes," he replied slowly. "Yes, she does."

* * *

 **Again sorry it's been so long. I hit a snag again. Thanks for being so patient.**

 **I love hearing and feeling your support!**

 **It really means so much to me. Definitely keeps me going :)**


	7. Chapter 7: Day Is Done

**Hey! Here's another update. Sorry for the writing I know it's not the best. Still trying to get back into the groove of things.**

 **Thanks for the follows and favouriting :) It really means a lot!**

 **On we go!**

 **Chapter Seven** **–** **Day Is Done**

"When the day is done

Down to earth then sinks the sun

Along with everything that was lost and won

When the day is done..."

 **–** Nick Drake

* * *

Home...

It was strange for her to think that. For so long home had been wherever Pietro had been.

Now Wanda's eyes wandered around the room that one of the agents had directed her to.

It was plain. Filled with modern looking, functional furniture.

Even though the room's contents were lackluster as always her body surged with the energy of the items around her. She couldn't draw from them but she could feel their stored power.

A window stood in place of a wall across from the door.

Wanda caught her reflection in the sunset against the pane of glass.

Home...

Letting out a frustrated sigh Wanda moved further into the room to thump herself angrily down on the double bed that sat next to the window.

It was hard for her to figure how she could stay here.

She spent so much of her life hating Tony Stark and here he was now. Sheltering her and her brother.

He had appeared to save Sokovia. Save the world. He was sorry.

Wanda's brow creased as she contemplated this. Tony Stark. He was the reason for so much death.

The battle on the streets of the city only the day before filled her head. What could have happened...

He was the reason for so much life.

He was sorry.

A sharp stab hit her stomach as another vision one of brother's bloodied, hole-ridden shirt enter her thoughts. She had trouble since that day with keeping those glaring images out of her head.

She had nearly lost Pietro.

His words from the helicarrier entered her mind. He trusted she could survive without him.

That was a fact Wanda had a difficult time grappling with. Regardless of whether or not she could. Would she want to?

For so long he was all she could depend on.

Her brother. Her protector. Her... her only friend.

'That's not true Wanda.'

Closing her eyes she let herself fall back against the grey bed cover.

The duvet felt soft. It smelt unfamiliar... clean.

It was a luxury they weren't used to.

At least one they hadn't been used to in some time.

None of them.

Wanda felt her fingers singe with red as she pictured the life Zora had experienced once they had given up on her.

'You were trying to...' Wanda gritted her teeth, she would not herself off so easy. Not after what they had put her through.

Not just Hydra. But she and Pietro.

Little Zora had always been there. And even so they had let her go.

Zora, who had taken on their pain as her own. Who had hated Stark because they had hated him. Who had no one else to turn to.

Wanda could see the red welling up before her. It seeped out and made her cheeks wet.

Home...

Her fists clenched the fabric of the bed cover.

She pictured her childhood.

Green grass and grey buildings. Learning to speak English. Nursing animals back to health with Pietro, her brother, and Zora... her sister.

* * *

"Wanda?"

The nine year old girl stifled a giggle as she pushed her way back against the inner wall of the closet.

"Are you here? 'C-cause it's scary up here. And mother said..."

Hearing that Wanda tightened her hold on the red shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She was older and shouldn't have been frightened but this abandoned part of the house unnerved her too and her father always said red was a protective colour.

Holding her breath she listened as the other voice continued, "...Mother said we shouldn't - AH! Help!"

At that frightened sound Wanda freely gave away her hiding place.

"Zora?" She called leaving the closet to look around the dusty, sunlit attic of her Aunt and Uncle's house. It was stuffed at one end with boxes and boxes of musty smelling clothes and at the other piles of worn old wooden furniture. The heat of the Summer sun had only made it more claustrophobic.

"Wanda?" She heard the little girl's voice somewhere by the door leading to the stairs.

"I'm here!" Wanda shouted in her their language, quickly making her way through the maze of items crammed into the large space. "Are you hurt?"

Rounding the corner around a rickety old desk, Wanda saw Zora leaning against the clapboard wall furthest away from the stairs leading up to the attic, with a smirk on her face.

Slowing down the older girl's look of worry turned into one of annoyance.

"You little brat!"

"What?" Zora teased with an innocent voice.

"You tricked me!" Wanda blew some of her long, perpetually untied reddish brown hair out of her eyes in irritation.

"And it worked." The little girl laughed.

"You just wait. The next time you call for help I won't come running." Wanda grumbled refusing to look at the younger girl. Her brown eyes instead drifting to the boxes around the room.

"Nah ah." Zora stated defiantly.

Wanda could picture her giving the pout she always did.

"You just wait." She repeated her gaze landing on a box hidden under the desk she had just passed by, that looked like it hadn't been touched in years. Moving over to it she saw the tape holding it closed was starting to unfurl. Without much thought she pulled the box out from under the desk and took what remained of the tape back. A thick layer of dust slid off the lid and gently fell onto the floor as Wanda sunk down to her knees to take a better look.

There were what looked like a bunch of faded news paper clippings. Wanda began sifting through them but most of them were in English or maybe some other language she didn't understand. As she dug further into the box she found some with the picture of a little boy. He looked sad.

Wanda frowned as she tried to make out the words. She didn't understand why anyone would keep these strange things.

"You didn't mean that did you Wanda?" Zora was standing next to her now, breaking her concentration.

Something about her voice made Wanda turn. There was an intense worry that practically vibrated off of Zora's little body.

Putting the papers back into the box, Wanda faced the younger girl with a soft smile. "Of course not, Solnyshka." She tucked the hair that had fallen out of one of Zora's light braids behind the small girl's ear.

Bashfully the five year old scuffed her sock covered feet against the dust on the floor, "Because Etro always says..."

"Pietro doesn't know anything." Wanda sighed, rolling her eyes at the stubborn boy's behaviour.

"He's your brother."

"Yes." The dark eyed replied simply, adding after a pause when Zora did not raise her head, "And you are my sister."

A blinding smile split across the younger girl's face, her amber eyes danced with joy as the looked up at Wanda. "Really?" She squealed and clapped her hands together.

Wanada couldn't help but take on some of the infectious happiness radiating off of Zora herself. "Really." She grinned, placing reassuring hands on the little girl's shoulders.

The blonde haired girl pursed her lips for a moment and scrutinized Wanda's face, sternly asking again, as if to make sure. "Promise?"

"Solnyshka." Wanda spoke, her next English words coming out slowly and with the weight of her sincerity in them, "I promise."

* * *

"Wanda!"

The auburn haired woman jerked to sit up on the bed with a sudden gasp of breath.

Her dark eyes flew around the room. The sun had complete set but the light from the hall gave her some idea of what was going on.

There were large black cracks lining the walls by the door frame. A red mist of energy evaporated in the air before the silhouette of the blond man standing just inside the room with his hands lifted in a calming gesture.

"Are you ok?" Captain Rogers asked, his expression and the way he approached her reminded Wanda of a man approaching a wild animal.

Her fingers buzzed in anger, but a strange sadness over took that emotion soon enough.

The memories of Hydra using her and using those who meant anything to her. Trapping them and manipulating them. Poking them. Testing. Measure. Feed. Sleep. Shit. Feed. Sleep. Shit. Hide.

'Am I no more than an animal anymore?'

"Maximoff." His tone was more firm as he tried to get her respond.

Wanda focus seemed to snap back into the moment. She realized her chest had been heaving and that her eyelashes were wet.

"I... I..." she opened and closed her mouth unsure of what she was trying to say. "I'm sorry." She finished weakly.

The tension in his broad shoulders relaxed slightly as he dropped his hands and softened the look in his eye. "You don't have to be sorry."

"I'm sure Mr. Stark would disagree." She stated plainly.

"Yeah..." the Captain glanced at the cracked wall to his right, he tugged at the plaster clinging to one of the lines and watched as it broke off and fell to the ground. "Well..." he shrugged, giving her a small noncommittal smile. "He's just lucky it wasn't anything major. Then the alarms would've gone off and the iron legion would have broken in. That would really've cost him." He scoffed lightly, "But given everything you... we've been through in the last few days I'm sure he'd cut us a break."

"The others didn't come." She stated rather than asked.

He shook his head. "Vision and Tony are off in some lab in New York, everyone else's gone to do their own thing for a while anyway and the only other people here are Clint, Nat and they'll probably be heading out soon. And then your brother..." he seemed to hesitate before carrying on "...as you know he's been restricted to his bunk for his own safety." He said with a sympathetic wince, causing her to nod her head once in understanding. Taking in a hefty breath he continued, "Other than that it's just your other friend." Wanda visibly twitched at that information.

Though he eyed her waiting for her to contribute, Wanda didn't say anything. She simply stared at him waiting for the super soldier to say whatever it was he was planning on saying. It was obvious he was the type to try and right something if he could.

As much as she didn't want to admit it he was a nice change. Pietro and Stark and the others, aside from Vision, had a sense of tension around them. Like a rubber band about to snap. And while Captain Rogers seemed no less likely to snap, there was something about his aura that felt stable. He knew what he believed. Perhaps not who he could trust. But he knew his values. At least that was the impression Wanda got from what she was able to pick up on from him.

It was comforting.

'Comforting Wanda... like Sol...'

"You wanna fill me in on what happened?" He finally gave in, breaking the strained silence and her train of thought.

"Why?" She all but scoffed.

"For one thing, it looks like we're gonna be working together."

At that Wanda raised her brow, "Is it so set?"

There had been some ideas regarding what she and her brother would do now. With no SHIELD and no country to return to they were limited on options. Especially considering their enhanced capabilities.

Wanda hadn't really talked it over with Pietro, but she could tell joining with this group wouldn't be without it's complications. The least of which was not that she and her brother had only days ago been aiding a terrorist robot. That detail would likely be difficult to smooth over with various governing bodies.

The Captain gave a curt nod of his head, "Looks like it. Though your brother might need a little more convincing."

Wanda resisted snorting at that comment. No one could make Pietro do anything he didn't want to. Not unless some part of him wanted to do it to begin with. His mind moved too fast in one direction, sometimes it was difficult to get him to slow down and see all the angles.

"And your friend..." The blond man carried on, probing gently.

Wanda resisted the urge to grit her teeth, "What about her?"

"Well it seems she's not too keen on participating in anything to do with Stark."

Wanda's stomach flipped, Zora was still standing up for their battles. "She said that?"

"Well, that was the impression I got from Stark."

"He spoke with her?" She stated rather than asked.

Her dark gaze watched the Captain as he nodded his head. He stood so tall and imposing with his arms crossed over his puffed out chest. Straight back and square jawed he looked so patriotic. Even his perfect hair. So American.

She sent a course of red heat to her fingertips and saw the light from it reflected back in his blue eyes.

His jaw tensed slightly and voice held a deeper tone when he went on. "Either way it may be useful for us to get to know each others... quirks." He returned to the earlier subject obviously realizing any discussion to do with Zora would get him no where.

"Quirks?"

"Yeah." He relaxed his posture. Shifting his hands to the pockets of his pants and leaning on the doorjamb.

"I don't know that you'd want to know my quirks, Captain Rogers."

"It's Steve." He said bluntly before going on, "And I guess you wouldn't wanna know mine either but it's part of the deal." He pointed to the space between them. "That's how this works. We're part of a team."

"A team..." Wanda said airily, more for her own benefit than anything else. She cast her eyes around the steadily darkening room, mumbling as she did, "And this is our home."

"This..." Steve glanced around the sparse room as well, shaking his head once he'd seemed to have taken inventory, his blue consideration sticking to the recent cracks on the wall. "This is just where we live."

* * *

 **Hopefully this was ok.**

 **Still getting back into the swing of things.**

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